


With Possessive Finality

by greengrapegaze



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Cock Rings, Dirty Talk, Dom Sherlock, Dom/sub, Dominance, Domlock, Gags, Hand Jobs, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, No Plot/Plotless, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Roughness, bottomjohn, i guess it's not really master/slave, i'm not sure and I'm still rather new to this, sorry if my tagging sucks, subjohn, toplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greengrapegaze/pseuds/greengrapegaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was his-the alluring deprivation for sex, the ardent build up, and the keening whines reserved for just his ears. He was never going to share John and would never be idiotic enough to give him up. How could one possibly pass up the scorch of desire John brought out in him? Or the primal possessive urges to claim? It was pitiful and animalistic, but Sherlock adored every single bit of it. To the scent of satiation and the welcoming buzz of an of orgasm-the dominant loved his submissive and his eagerness to please. John was his, he simply needed to remind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Possessive Finality

Ferality of sex, or _fucking_ as John so adored the phrasing, could consume any sophisticated intellect within a matter of seconds. The smell of it was repugnant and addictive, and- _oh_ -how he loved the stench of sweat and heavy musk pervading the air. However, it was the sobs of pleasure that elicited such ferocious reactions from him. One measly whimper could turn abject disinterest into fervent and coarse desire. Any resolve for a frigid composure would crumble away like tobacco ash from a quickly deteriorating tar stick, and his pet knew this. Though knowing was so meager-his pet _invested_ and extrapolated on it; manipulating his Master to give him just what he wanted. 

That would be his very mistake-the cause to his downfall and reformed submission. It wouldn’t be an immediate concession, but a gradual downfall that would consume both of them in fierce lust. It would brand the dominant’s ownership onto his submissive and remind him of his place forever at his Master’s whim. This was their relationship, and he cherished every single bit of it. For no matter how much he took away, whether it be sight, sound, or pleasure, his submissive desperately gave more of himself to tip the balances. Even now, bound and writhing, his pet continued to satisfy and align their sights.

Cerulean eyes scrutinized the body laid out before him, taking in the decorative silken rope binding the body with bold intricate patterns and knots. It was done so in a way that would tease but never bring completion. The knots all belonged to one lengthy rope, and if one tugged on a line, such as he was doing now, it would trigger a response throughout the network. What he enjoyed most was when his submissive wiggled, causing the rope to grazingly tease sensitive flesh. John was doing that very thing now; writhing and whining with amassed frustration. He ought to take pity, but then that would ruin all his fun…

A spindly finger curled around a small spanse of sapphire blue and tugged gingerly to tighten as well as remind his submissive he was still there. He’d mostly observed since the session had started, committing his pet’s desperation and reactions to memory. Especially the abrosial sighs that had begun two minutes into being bound. The luscious vocal nuances had changed, but Sherlock preferred them as they were now. Each sound was reminiscent of a whimper, but the domineering brunet knew the truth behind the paltry noises. They were wretched attempts to say the words ‘ _please_ ’ and ‘ _master_ ’ together as if it would aid him. His darling pet was doing so well, his tanned face delicately shaped with an expression of pure wanton need. Miserable tears fell down his cheeks, but the man avoided them to card cool fingers through sweaty blond locks. 

“ _Shhhhh_ ,” he soothed, leaning forward to kiss down his pet’s back and around towards his hips, all while avoiding contact with the bindings. “Would you like your Master to take care of you now?” He inquired, voice deep and rumbling as he pressed his chilled cheek to the heated flesh just before him. The victim to his will thrashed in his bindings, nodding frantically as if it would get him everything he wanted. It wouldn’t, but what would escape his lips once Sherlock _finally_ removed the gag would succeed. Kissing the feverish flesh, he moved to stand properly, gentle hands guiding the face up. “You’re so very good for me right now, pet… Doing this and _repenting_ for your bad behavior. Will you be good?” The man asked, caressing John’s cheeks to wipe the tears away that had slipped free from behind the blindfold. The blond at his mercy, or previous lack of, whined and leaned into the hands in answer. 

Stroking the flushed face for a few more seconds, Sherlock regarded his pet with a cool and almost loving expression until he decided it was time to move on with the session’s events. Unbuckling the clasp holding the gag in place, Sherlock let the ball and leather fall into his free upturned palm. In the mean time, he allowed John the moment to stretch his sore jaw, hand soothingly rubbed the blond’s shoulders. “Such a good boy… My darling pet. You’ve done so well.” The man hummed, tone lilting in a sensual lullaby promising relief. The submissive soaked in the praise, arching his back and pressing into the hands. 

Once he deemed the smaller man ready, he gripped the neatly trimmed blond locks and forced his submissive’s head back. A whimper escaped his pet, and a shudder trailed down his spine in reply. Ravenous greedy eyes soaked in the sight of the man presenting his quivering body for his dominant’s use. He was so desperate, so _eager_ to please, and Sherlock was going to bask in the victory. Just not quite yet…

Fingernails dug lightly into the scalp, his other hand abandoning the gag so he could take up the newfound space in John’s mouth. “Suck.” He ordered, tone curt and demanding. His pet didn’t hesitate and the man revelled in the obedience. A warm tongue bathed his fingers, lavving each digit with affectionate focus.“You were a very bad pet today, John… I should likely punish you more for your insolence. You disobeyed my orders and then had the galling lack of wit to _argue_ with me. Bad pets don’t get rewards,” he began, receiving a shrill whine from the blond. He tightened his grip, fingers vising and unyielding as he tugged further back. “Must I reteach you your manners and etiquette once more, John?”

An abrupt and hasty shake of the head in his grasp was his answer, the action placating the lithe brunet just enough to relax his grip on the golden wheat strands. “Good… I suggest you better your behavior or I will place the gag back in your mouth and leave you as you are.” Sherlock warned, pressing on before the male could respond. “Now… Tell me the more important reasoning for your punishment.” He prompted, drawing his fingers away to grant him the space to speak. “I flirted with someone in front of, Master…” A hoarse fatigued voice answered, urging the dominant’s lips to twitch with the want to smirk. He suppressed the itch, deciding to stroke the man’s cheeks in return. “Very good… Now tell your Master you’re sorry, pet.” Sherlock ordered, thumb brushing over the edge of the blind fold as he contemplated removing it to see John’s stormy lust ridden gaze. He didn’t have the chance as the man lurched forward to press his cheek against his dom’s thigh.

“I’m sorry, Master. I am. I should have known better, Master. I won’t do it again…” The words spilled from John’s lips, tongue wetting them part way to allow them to descend better from his tongue. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so much better for you, Master. I’m sorry, please take care of me, Master… _Please_ , I’ll be good.” He begged, nuzzling his cheek into the chilled fabric of the man’s trousers. Pleased by the words, he hummed his acceptance and crouched so he could bring his pet some much vital friction. 

Fingers grazed over the sensitive glans of a drooling cock head, eyes following the trail eagerly. “Do you believe you deserve to cum, John?” Sherlock probed as he dragged his touch downwards to encase the space just above the base of John’s cock where a cock ring kept the man hard and on edge. “Yes, Master. Please, please, _please_ , Master. I’ll be good, I promise. Please, Master.” The submissive breathed, voice harsh and breathless. It was obvious he couldn’t trap enough oxygen in his lungs, and his hips kept stuttering as if he meant to thrust into Sherlock’s hands. It was only by his Master’s will and his pet’s determination that such a thing didn’t happen. The brunet was so proud of his pet. 

“Go on, John… Tell me how badly you wish to cum.” He purred, beginning to stroke him at a tortuous pace. He wasn’t going to let him have his relief, not yet. He had to imprint his ownership further and remind John that he was his and his alone. “Please, Master… Oh, _please, please, please_. I need it so badly, Master… Please. I want to cum, I want to cum, Master.” His sub whined, leaning his torso into Sherlock to drop his forehead against the man’s shoulder. So adorable, how could he possibly say no? _Jealousy_ of course. “Tell me who you belong to, John. Or are you so much of a slut that you would abscond with another man just so you can have a cock buried in that greedy pert arse of yours? _Tell me who you belong to_.” He demanded, building up the pace in his strokes. Should the blond falter, he would draw back and set to _reminding_ him again. He didn’t think he truly needed to, but he wanted this session to imprint. 

“You, you, you, _you_. Only you, Master. _Always_ you, Master. Please, _please_ , Master. Please, I need it, Master- _nnnn_ , Master, please.” John babbled, words steadily beginning to slur. Sherlock didn’t care because he’d said the words he needed to hear. Growling with triumph and rage, he began to pump the blond’s cock more roughly in his hand. The action was taken well if the sobbing and moans of ‘ _please_ ’ and ‘ _oh god yes_ ’ were anything to go by. “You belong to _me_ , John. _I_ am your Master. _I own you_ and only _I_ can satisfy you. _You_ are _my_ pet- _my greedy cock sleeve_.” He bit out, arranging his other hand around the brooch holding the cock ring in place. John whimpered and the sound went straight to his cock. It inspired it to twitch, reminding him of his very own pent up sexual frustrations. However, he would take care of it later. For now, he wanted to focus on John and watch the man come apart in his presence.

Gripping tousled sweaty locks, Sherlock yanked John’s head back and nipped ruthlessly at the flushed flesh of his neck. He didn’t care that he was marking above the collar, or that the man would be at him once he saw them. He didn’t care because this was _his_ and _only his_. “Look at you, so debauched by _my touch_ … You want to cum-you’re so desperate for it, aren’t you? Go on then, _cum for me_.” He crooned, releasing John’s cock from the ring without any hesitation. His pet’s body drew taut, stiffening against him as a shrill cry of relief and ecstasy tore through his chest and parted his lips. Sherlock was positively drunk on it, purring his delight at the power he had over this one man. 

He fisted his cock more, working him right through the orgasm until he was much too sensitive to handle. Hand coated in the sticky white bitter mess, he raised it to his lips and licked the liquid clean from his fingers and palm. When done with his treat, he laid John back and set to removing the roping, taking his time in freeing his sub. John didn’t seem to mind, far too exhausted to do much else than roll with Sherlock’s hands. That was fine as what he wished to do would only require himself to do all the work. 

Maneuvering John onto his knees and chest, Sherlock unfastened his trousers and adjusted his pants to pull his cock out. He stroked the aching member firmly before cutting off any immediate orgasm due to sudden stimulation. Reaching forward, he removed the plug he’d kept inside John the entire session and set it to the side before lubing his cock generously. Without waiting, he pushed himself inside the blond, eliciting a deplorable whimper and feeble wiggle as he bottomed out. 

Fully sheathed inside, Sherlock bent over John and set a grueling violent pace. Nails dug into the shorter man’s hips, drawing him roughly onto his cock. He wasted no time driving into his submissive, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He was so close already, and, although he had hoped to draw it out just a bit more, John was just too tight and delicious. The blond’s pert arse was a perfect glove for his cock and his submissive clamped around him in an attempt to draw him in further. All while mewling and keening; relinquishing noises that had Sherlock ravenous and desperate. It wasn’t going to take long, he knew this, but he tried desperately to stave of his orgasm. He tried, but he didn’t succeed.

He thrust in and out, pounding into the man with hisses and grunts of delight. He could feel the coil in his gut tightening, and, sure enough, Sherlock’s hips began to stumble in their rhythm. The race for his own completion became erratic, brutal, and disgustingly filthy. _Decadent_. Just a few more pointed thrusts and Sherlock was spilling into John, back arched and fingers biting into warm flesh.

It was a few seconds before Sherlock came down from the primal ardency of his orgasm and high. Arms finally wrapping around his submissive to lower them both to the cool ground. He tucked the quivering mess into his chest with head placed beneath his chin. He hummed softly, kissing the damn wheaten locks with an over abundance of placated affection. His submissive leaned into it, curling against his body with his very own answering murmur of devotion. 

“Mine,” he mused, grip tightening on John to keep him in place. “Yours,” came the immediate hum of an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the person that beta'd this. I literally had no idea I was going to write it until it happened, and it was on such short notice. Secondly, it got very long, but I really didn't want to cut it down. So sorry if it seems never ending or if it's just too much. I can get very wordy sometimes... I tried to rush towards the end, so if you see a quality difference, that's likely it.
> 
> I had a bunch of ways I thought about ending it, full circle, cliff hanger, but I just deleted all of that and went with something simple. I really only like the beginning, but I figure somebody else will like it, so I decided to just post it. I hope you all enjoy it <3
> 
> I also didn't know how to title it.


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